


Round and Round

by HeckinaHandbasket



Series: Heck of a Halloween [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Being Gross, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Smut, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Coming In Pants, Hop In This Handbasket We’re Going To Heck, I tried to be spooky but it’s mostly just smut, I wanted to call this you spin me right round baby but let’s be honest Billy loves RATT, Idiots in Love, Light BDSM, M/M, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Billy Hargrove, featuring inadvisable sex acts please don’t try, kind of, listen I started writing this and realized halfway through it was basically light bondage whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeckinaHandbasket/pseuds/HeckinaHandbasket
Summary: To say they stood in line would have implied that there was a line of people to stand in, rather than just a wobbly, rusted barricade in an abandoned field.“I dunno, man. I don’t think it’s running. There isn’t even anyone attending it.”As he said the words, the ride started spinning.It was eerie, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as Billy slapped him on the arm with a laugh.“There, see. It’s just automatic or some shit.”That seemed...very unsafe to Steve, but.He didn’t have the greatest track record of making safe, sane decisions.For instance, here he was, at the carnival with his fuck-buddy who wasn’t a buddy at all.Fuck-bully? Was that a thing?Fuck-antagonistic prick with the prettiest goddamn eyes Steve had ever seen?Kind of a mouthful.Not unlike Billy.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Heck of a Halloween [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967533
Comments: 14
Kudos: 261
Collections: Harringrove Halloween Carnival





	Round and Round

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to lostnoise for beta reading and putting up with me in general, they’re the best!
> 
> Okay listen I tried to be spooky with this one but I know it’s not scary at all. Spooky just isn’t my thing. But smut is, so get ready for a decent helping of that.
> 
> This fic can be read as three years after my Tunnel of Love fic, or they can both stand alone, it’s up to you! Choose your adventure!

To say they stood in line would have implied that there was a line of people to stand in, rather than just a wobbly, rusted barricade in an abandoned field.

“I dunno, man. I don’t think it’s running. There isn’t even anyone attending it.”

As he said the words, the ride started spinning.

It was eerie, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as Billy slapped him on the arm with a laugh.

“There, see. It’s just automatic or some shit.”

That seemed...very unsafe to Steve, but.

He didn’t have the greatest track record of making safe, sane decisions.

For instance, here he was, at the carnival with his fuck-buddy who wasn’t a buddy at all.

Fuck-bully? Was that a thing?

Fuck-antagonistic prick with the prettiest goddamn eyes Steve had ever seen?

Kind of a mouthful.

Not unlike Billy.

Billy, who leaned an elbow on Steve’s shoulder with far too much pressure even though he was shorter by an inch.

“So, I was thinking.”

“No.”

“Come on, pretty boy, you didn’t let me finish. I bet I could—”

“Absolutely not.”

Steve didn’t need to let him finish, because he knew exactly what he was going to say.

Billy, along with his fits of rage and general dickishness, was also prone to repetitive, terrible ideas.

Ideas like this one.

“Bet I could suck you off on this thing.”

Steve sighed, shoving Billy away as he pinched the bridge of his nose against a rising headache that throbbed to the cadence of Billy’s name.

“Billy. No. You can’t, because, number one, it wouldn’t fucking work, and number two, we’re in goddamned public.”

Billy gestured out at the empty field with both hands.

“Yeah, Harrington. Real public. You didn’t have any complaints at the drive-in, and I could hear the next car over chewing their popcorn.”

When Steve blushed, it was hard and fast and humiliating. It had sucked in high school, and it sucked now, as a grown ass man of twenty two.

And Billy loved it.

So he was always looking for ways to embarrass Steve, to make him turn bright red and fuming.

He always got the biggest, brightest grin on his face when it worked.

Like now.

Steve ignored it, frowning at the rapidly spinning ride.

“It can’t be done.”

Billy’s laugh hit this maniacal note that never failed to make Steve cringe even as his pants tightened.

He sounded unhinged, and Steve was fucked up for finding that as insanely hot as he did.

A sharp elbow knocked him into the barricade, which was suspiciously sticky. Steve wiped his hand off on his jeans with a grimace as Billy leered in his face.

“No. It can’t be done by you, King Steve.”

Steve could throw elbows as well as he could catch them, but Billy didn’t stumble, just absorbed the impact with a grunt.

“It’s like, physically impossible and just really a horrible idea.”

Billy caught Steve’s offending elbow in an iron grip, fingers digging into his bicep just hard enough to hurt. It made Steve’s stupid knees weak.

“All my best ideas are horrible ideas. Remember the bowling alley?”

Steve’s dick remembered the bowling alley.

Fondly.

He jerked his arm out of Billy’s grip, ignoring the part of himself that wanted to press in closer instead.

That wasn’t what this was, and Steve would do best to remember that.

This wasn’t a relationship.

It was a series of repeated mistakes, stretching over the past three years.

He could see the next mistake speeding around the bend like some asshole’s Camaro, headed right for Steve.

Steve didn’t step out of the way, bracing for impact instead as he nudged Billy’s boot with his dirty sneaker.

“Cut it out, Billy. I’m serious. You’re gonna bite my fucking dick off with your stupid ideas,”

Billy didn’t roll his eyes. That wasn’t his thing.

Instead, Billy stared him down while he did this thing with his tongue that practically made Steve’s pants unfasten themselves.

He nudged Steve’s sneaker right back, leaving his boot pressed against his ankle instead of pulling away after.

Steve told his idiotic, thumping heart not to read anything into that.

Billy probably wasn’t even aware that he was doing it.

Except, he did it again, tough leather sliding alongside the thin canvas of Steve’s high tops with intent.

“Wow, if I had a nickel every time you said that, I’d have about five bucks by now.”

Steve looked at him quizzically, trying not to read the expression on Billy’s face as fondness, even as Billy reached up to flick a stray lock of hair out of Steve’s eyes, fingers lingering on the strand just a moment too long.

“Don’t strain yourself, princess. It means you’ve said that like 100 times. And, look.”

He cupped Steve through his jeans, letting go quick with one mean, rough squeeze that did all sorts of terrible things to the butterflies in Steve’s stomach.

“All present and accounted for.”

It was absolutely hateful how much Steve liked that.

The worst.

The ride slowed to a screeching, shuddering stop and Billy practically skipped to the door, bringing Steve along with a hard slap on the shoulder and a waggling tongue clamped between his teeth.

God, Steve’s dick was an idiot.

Because he followed after Billy like a dutiful puppy, dick leading the way.

The metal door popped open, Steve hunching up his shoulders as a chill ran through him.

“I dunno, Billy. It doesn’t seem safe, with nobody here to run it or anything.”

Billy was already climbing inside, walking backwards with his hands out in Steve’s direction, fingers crooked invitingly.

“C’mon, Harrington. If you wanted safe, you wouldn’t be with me.”

And, damn.

That unexpected bit of insight left Steve feeling just a little too exposed.

He clambered into the ride, sneaker nearly sliding off of the step before he caught himself with a curse.

Billy laughed at him, leaning back against one of the faux leather panels with his arms crossed, one foot kicked up flat to the wall.

“Need some help, Bambi?”

Steve peered around the ride, ignoring Billy’s goading.

Nobody.

Fucking strange. Creepy, even.

It didn’t seem to bother Billy at all, who just kicked back to watch Steve fumble his way through the low lights to one of the panels a few spaces away from Billy.

He leaned back, gripping onto the leather just as the ride squealed and started to move.

Billy gave an irritated huff, lurching across the distance to plant himself on his back on the panel beside Steve, flipping him off as the ride started going.

“Nice try, sweetheart. But I’m not gonna let you spoil this fucking amazing idea.”

Steve shook his head, stomach clenching as the ride started to force him back against the wall.

“Just don’t, Billy. You’re gonna get one of us hurt.”

Sometimes Billy let his voice do this thing that Steve could practically feel, like a soft hand on the nape of his neck. Silk and velvet and full of promise.

He turned to Steve, using that voice with a wicked grin.

“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

The ride started going in earnest, spinning with rapidly advancing speed and Steve groaned as Billy lunged across the short distance to flip himself on top of Steve.

“Billy, no! I told you not to do it, man!”

Steve ducked and cursed as Billy crawled over him, belly to belly, and swiveled himself upside down, narrowly avoiding a knee to the face.

The thing about Billy, was—

A thing about Billy, really.

Among the many, many things about Billy. Was that he wasn’t careful.

He threw himself into everything like he was hitting the gas on his Camaro, just, full throttle.

He cursed into Steve’s crotch as his fingers struggled with the zip, face mashed into Steve’s hip with the increasing force of the spinning ride.

Steve squeaked in discomfort as Billy spun himself right side up again, accusing the ride’s mother of all kinds of unsavory things that made Steve exceedingly glad there was no one around to hear.

He spat Billy’s hair out of his mouth, stomach swooping as the force of the ride pinned him to the wall.

“Get off me, you dick. Go back to your spot!”

Billy wasn’t listening, struggling mightily against the irresistible pull of gravity to try to worm his way down Steve’s body for a second attempt.

He grunted with frustration when he couldn’t budge, pressing Steve harder and harder against the wall with his bulk.

The friction of his wriggling made Steve’s dick perk up, growing hard and needy in his jeans.

Billy growled, wedging a knee between Steve’s legs as the ride jostled them together. His firm, thick thigh ground into Steve’s aching cock relentlessly.

And that was.

Um.

Spectacular, actually.

More than it should have been.

Something about his inability to move while Billy’s solid weight pinned him down, grunting and grinding and cursing on top of him, just.

Hit all of Steve’s hidden buttons, all at once.

It was a disaster.

The too-rough, not-enough friction through their jeans built in a steady spiral as they spun over and over and—

And he was suddenly, dangerously, close to the edge, balls tightening and dick throbbing, breath hitching beneath the building wave.

Billy pushed up on his elbows, muscles straining to fight the forces of gravity. His lower half smashed into Steve even harder and his forehead didn’t budge from the padded leather over Steve’s shoulder but he twisted his head just enough that his snarling, open mouth grazed Steve’s throat, blunt teeth a hard wet line, and—

There was nothing he could do.

Steve closed his eyes against the mortifying burst of euphoria that hit his veins as he whimpered and twitched helplessly beneath the irresistible force of his orgasm, trapped dick spurting in his jeans and limbs trembling.

Billy collapsed again, broad chest compressing his ribs and making it hard for Steve to take a full breath and, oh, god, that was even better, somehow.

Fuck.

He tried to squirm out from beneath him, but there was no budging in any direction and all it served to do was grind the wet spot at the front of his pants into Billy’s thigh, soaking through the layers of cloth.

Steve choked back a groan at the harsh spark of overstimulation from the unrelenting pressure, heaving a heartfelt sigh of relief as the spinning began to slow down.

Billy lifted his head as soon as he was able with a soft, inquiring sound right in Steve’s ear and, oh, god.

He had to get out of there, without Billy seeing.

Steve wouldn’t survive the humiliation.

There was no way that Billy would let something like this go without digging his claws in deep. It was going to be a whole thing, and Steve’s stomach turned over more from the dread of Billy’s reaction than the dizzying swirl of the ride.

It was not the first time that Steve had wished he could disappear without Billy noticing.

He remembered the sensation from the hallways at school, and the locker room, and, fuck, the backseat of Billy’s car the first time Steve had spilled over his fist just a little too quick and he had laughed in his face. Like a dick.

There was nothing Billy loved more than to see Steve wriggling on his hook and, this time, there was no way out of it.

The ride slowed to a stop but Billy hesitated before pulling away, wide eyes dropping to Steve’s crotch and Steve shoved past him, stumbling out of the ride and striding unevenly past the barricade. He aimed his way across the field toward the lights of the rows of games over to the side, yanking his sweater off to tie around his waist in the hopes that it might cover the worst of the incriminating stain.

Billy caught up to him almost immediately, jogging up with a huff to clap Steve on the shoulder hard enough that he tripped in the grass.

“Hey, wait up, dipshit. Where’s the fucking fire, huh?”

Steve didn’t answer, keeping his head down as he kept walking.

Billy let his hand glide down Steve’s back to hook into the twisted arm of his sweater, tugging just enough to loosen it.

Steve elbowed him away, pulling the sweater tight as he glared over at Billy’s smug, smirking face.

Fuck.

He definitely knew.

That particular curl of his lips, tongue poking out like a cat with the cream, all of it said that Steve was absolutely, unavoidably fucked.

Billy opened his laughing mouth and, goddamnit, tears pricked at Steve’s eyes as a lump rose in his throat, face burning.

He felt off-kilter after that ride, weird and floaty and vulnerable.

It was terrifying.

Steve shoved Billy away, increasing his pace.

They were almost to the games, all lit up without a single soul working or walking the narrow row.

Christ, this place gave Steve the heebie-jeebies.

He started to duck his head, scraping at his eyes with his wrist as he tried to power walk his way through the row, but Billy was too fast.

Billy hooked a strong hand in the crook of his elbow, swinging him around into the tiny space between two stalls, crowding him against the cloth-covered plywood into the shadows.

“Woah. Cool it, pretty boy. What the fuck has got your panties in a bunch?”

Steve winced at the word ’panties’, dread cresting as the inevitable approached at building, breakneck speed.

Billy pushed even closer, hot breath fanning Steve’s face as he looked up at him, shining eyes dark with pupil.

“Or maybe, not a bunch, but, something else, baby?”

His voice dropped low, quiet beneath the chime and clang of bells from the abandoned games surrounding them.

Steve turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he refused to answer, something foreign buzzing beneath his skin, quaking at the thought of Billy’s gleeful humiliation even as he longed for his unlikely approval.

Billy shifted against him, letting his lips drag softly across the skin of Steve’s throat as he spoke.

“Holy shit. You really did, didn’t you? You only ever make that sweet little sound when you do. I knew I could feel you losing it underneath me, all quiet and desperate. That shit was so goddamned hot.”

Steve shoved him with the heels of his hands hard against his chest, only managing to rock him back a little on his boot heels.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Billy leaned his weight on his elbows to either side of Steve, caging him in as his breath started coming faster, panting into his neck, tongue curling out to taste the taut line of Steve’s throat.

“Show me.”

Steve tried once more to push him away, grunting as Billy slammed him back into the wood, shaking the entire stall, leaving his hand pressed hard to the center of Steve’s chest.

Steve blinked back the burn of more stupid tears, turning his head away even as his knees buckled just a little from the rough handling, dick twitching.

“Fuck off.”

It would have been, like, really excellent if he could have kept his voice from wavering.

Billy didn’t do soft, but. He took a little of the edge off his voice, nosing at Steve’s cheek with a quiet shushing sound.

“Easy, princess. You’re doing great. I’m gonna talk you through it, alright?”

His hands fell to the sweater around Steve’s waist, the one on his chest dragging down with firm, steady pressure like a rider gentling a horse.

Steve hated how much more relaxed that made him feel.

Billy tugged on the sweater again, voice soft and low.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

And then he just stopped, both hands on the sweater, watching and waiting.

Because, sometimes. Not always, but, sometimes, Billy wanted to do some bossy shit in the bedroom.

The awful thing about it was that Steve really, desperately, loved it.

Fucking, craved that shit.

The really, extremely awful thing about it was that Billy liked to wait for Steve to agree to the bossy shit before he got started, like Steve was a fucking girl in the back of his Camaro who had to be eased into it.

It made Steve furious and filled him up with this strange, warm feeling that he didn’t understand and it was the worst.

And he absolutely counted on it when he was feeling small and shaky like this.

He cleared his throat, nodding his head, chin brushing against soft blond curls.

“Yeah, okay. Okay, Billy.”

The way Billy smiled made him feel like he had done something to be proud of, beaming up at him before dropping the grin and assuming a hard look that made Steve’s spent dick start to twitch and fill in his ruined briefs.

“Put your hands flat against the wall,” he guided Steve’s hands to splay out flat on either side of his hips, releasing his wrists with a squeeze, “Just like that. Good. You like that shit?”

Steve breathed out a quiet affirmation that made Billy’s eyes light up like one of the games just on the other side of the wall, briskly untying Steve’s sweater to drop to the ground, moving in to grind his hard cock into the wet spot in Steve’s jeans. His lips brushed Steve’s ear when he spoke, mustache scraping rough in contrast.

“That’s right, you like that. Like it when I’ve got you where I want you, when you can’t fucking move. All sweet and helpless, fuck.”

He let the last word ride out on a jagged moan, the rigid line of his cock burning through their jeans.

He pulled back and shoved his hand down the front of Steve’s pants and into his briefs with no further warning, groaning low as he felt the mess inside them, rough fingers curling around Steve’s half-hard dick, sparking his overworked nerves.

“Fuck, you’re so wet like this. Can’t believe how good you are, princess. Creaming your goddamned jeans for me, fuck.”

Steve shook his head, choking back a cry as Billy squeezed, encouraging Steve’s dick to fill out in his palm at his command.

“Billy, I—I didn’t mean to—”

Billy’s nose knocked into Steve’s jaw, his free hand curving loose around Steve’s throat as he rasped in his ear.

“No, shh. You’re perfect.”

He yanked Steve’s jeans open with one hand, pulling the waistband of his briefs down below his balls, exposing his soaking wet cock to the chill autumn air.

Steve banged his head back against the stall, fingers digging into the rough canvas surface of the wood, shaking with the effort to keep them in place.

Billy growled with approval, the sound hitting Steve like a drug as he listened to the distinctive clink of Billy’s belt buckle opening, jeans unzipping before he returned his hand to Steve’s throat.

No pressure, just. Holding him. Like a reminder to keep still.

Billys thumb swept in a gentle arc across Steve’s windpipe as he rested their foreheads together, stroking Steve’s cock from root to tip, adding a mean little squeeze to the sensitive head on every upstroke that turned Steve into a panting, writhing mess.

Billy’s hard cock bumped into Steve’s as his hips thrust forward, sliding across his own wrist as he pulled on Steve’s cock.

He buried his face in the curve where Steve’s neck met his shoulder, biting at his collar with a groan, talking with the fabric caught between his teeth.

“Fuck. Love you like this. Wanna keep you like this all the time. Pinned and sweet and ready for me.”

And, oh, fuck, maybe the ride had left Steve dizzier than he had thought because his head was spinning, fingers gripping the wall in an attempt to remain upright.

Steve was so fucked.

He was never going to forget the way Billy’s voice curled so sweetly around the words.

’Love you.’

He was twisting it around, he knew. Billy didn’t mean it like that. But.

God, he could still hear it, like an echo.

Like a sweet dream that would never come true.

Billy lapped at his neck, long, firm, lazy licks as he shoved his hips forward and slid their dicks together with a groan.

Steve bit his lip around a whine as Billy took them both in hand, the contrast of his cold rough hand and hot silken dick setting him on fire.

“Fuck, Billy!”

Billy chuckled darkly, working up speed, the rhythmic sound of his hand around them slapping wet and filthy in the abandoned night.

“Mm, not here, princess. But later, I promise.”

Steve choked on a cry as Billy squeezed hard with a twist, catching Steve’s ear in his teeth and biting down just enough to hurt.

He came so hard he doubled over, abs clenching, face buried in Billy’s fragrant curls, something like his name twisted from his lips.

His hands didn’t budge from the wall. Billy looked like Steve had punched him when he noticed.

“Oh, fuck. So good, pretty boy.”

He growled low in his chest, pressing Steve back against the stall as he abandoned jerking his cock in favor of shoving it through a tunnel he made with his cupped hand over Steve’s stomach, dick sliding through the mess of Steve’s cum, rubbing it into his skin.

“Perfect. You did so good for me, fuck, I’m not gonna last.”

Steve’s head was spinning, pleasantly fuzzy, skin buzzing all over like he had gotten high on Billy’s dick.

He nuzzled into Billy’s cheek, too stupid with endorphins to stop himself from brushing an unmistakable kiss along his jaw.

Billy reacted like Steve had slapped him, muscles bunching with a gasp as he shuddered and came, shooting up Steve’s stomach under his shirt, dripping over his fist as he rutted into it, dick twitching against Steve’s skin.

His clean hand rose up to cup the back of Steve’s head, massaging there briefly before pulling him back and guiding him to lean it back against the stall.

His eyes were bright with something elusive, searching Steve’s face as he pulled back, cum falling from his hand onto the dirt with a steady muted drip.

His voice was still doing that thing, that soft velvet thing as he brought his hand up to Steve’s trembling lips, eyes somehow doing that thing, too.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Time to clean up.”

Steve let his mouth fall open, licking at Billy’s soaking wet fingers, bitter salt and musk exploding on his tongue. He sucked them down one at a time, skin still buzzing at the way Billy petted his side with his clean hand, velvet voice whispering sweet things in his ear.

“Good, just like that. Christ, you’re unbelievable. Can’t believe how much I—”

He cut himself off, giving Steve a small, sheepish smile as if he was only just then aware that he was speaking. Billy did that sometimes, let his mouth run ahead of him, only to pull up hard on the brakes when he heard himself.

He gently pulled his hand away, huffing out a laugh when Steve chased after it, tongue extended greedily.

“That’s enough, sweetheart. You were so good for me. Just relax.”

Steve slumped back against the wall, catching his breath and watching through half-lidded eyes as Billy wiped his hand off on Steve’s shirt, tucking Steve’s soft dick away in his sopping wet briefs before doing up his jeans.

He shoved his own dick back in his pants, leaving one hand protectively inside as he zipped since he didn’t bother with fucking underwear like a normal person.

Then he returned both hands to Steve’s hips, holding him securely as he stepped back to just look at him spread out against the stall.

His eyes zeroed in on Steve’s hands, still pressed flat exactly where he had left them, flames of satisfaction snapping in his eyes.

“You really liked that. Fuck, you’re perfect. Holy shit. Here, just, let me.”

He wrapped his hands around Steve’s wrists, shushing him when he whined and resisted, pulling them away from the stall to hold them bundled in front of Steve’s chest between them.

Steve watched with baited breath as Billy closed his eyes and rubbed his face through Steve’s fingers, lips pressing just a shade too deliberate to be anything but a kiss.

Holy fuck.

Billy had never, not once in three goddamned years, but.

That’s what it was.

Steve’s heart did an admirable impression of that strongman game where you hit a lever with a hammer and it shoots the weight up to ring the bell.

Only, over and over, winning every time.

“Billy, what—”

But Billy had already pulled away, dropping Steve’s hands while he fussed with his hair, staring out at the abandoned games.

“We should probably get going, huh?”

Steve ran his hands through his own hair, using the wall to prop himself up as he leaned down to fumble for his sweater, focusing on knotting it around his hips, covering up the obvious wet spot in the front.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, arms tucked tightly to his sides against the cold. Fuck, it was freezing.

He glanced up to find Billy watching him, brow furrowed.

His face cleared when he noticed Steve’s attention, lips curving up in a shit-eating grin.

“I told you it was a good idea.”

Steve elbowed past him to stumble out into the bright lights of the carnival, swiveling his head to find it still, thankfully, abandoned.

“What? No! It was a terrible idea and it didn’t even work!”

Billy came up behind him, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder with a barely-there nip at his ear.

“Tell that to your ruined panties, baby.”

The whoosh of his breath as Steve threw his elbow back into his stomach was immensely satisfying.

“You’re such a dick.”

Billy jogged ahead, throwing his words over his shoulder with that ridiculous tongue poking out in Steve’s direction.

“Hurry the fuck up and I’ll win you a teddy bear for your little pink princess bed.”

Billy knew goddamned well that Steve’s bed was navy plaid, because he had fucked Steve in it less than a week ago, for probably the hundredth time.

He did win him a teddy bear, though.

For a given definition of win.

Meaning that Billy tossed balls at the targets, got pissed off when they didn’t fall, and climbed into the stall to punch them down before grabbing a small yellow teddy bear off of the wall and shoving it in Steve’s direction.

It was tiny, small enough to keep in his pocket.

He fiddled with it as they walked to the empty parking lot, startling when a warm, heavy weight settled across his shoulders.

Billy’s jacket. It reeked of cologne and cigarettes and Steve wanted to fucking wrap it around his pillow at night.

He turned wide eyes on Billy, who had stopped walking ten paces from their cars, chewing on his lip with that same furrowed brow from earlier.

“Harrington, wait.”

Nerves clawed at Steve’s stomach, hand clenching around the teddy bear in his pocket.

Because this wasn’t their pattern.

They didn’t talk about it, afterwards. They bickered and fucked and went about their merry way so that Steve could pine in seething silence until Billy crawled into his window unannounced to suck his brain out through his cock.

It was a well-established pattern.

This, whatever it was?

Unprecedented.

Billy would only look at him in short, intense bursts, blue flashing there and gone from beneath thick, dark lashes. The toe of his boot scraped a line in the dirt in front of him, thumbs sliding into his belt loops, fingers tense.

“Listen, I was wondering if, maybe. You’d like, want to grab something to eat after this?”

His voice was quiet and sweet, nothing like his usual cocksure swagger and it cut Steve off at the knees.

The ground felt unsteady beneath his feet, leaving Steve grasping for the familiar, jabbing tone they usually used with each other when nobody was getting their dick out. The teddy bear crumpled in his fist as he offered a teasing smirk.

“What, you asking me on a date, Hargrove?”

Billy’s chin jutted out, hands clenching and unclenching at his belt as he met Steve’s eyes with clear, unflinching blue.

“Yeah. I fucking am.”

It was like he had reached out and squeezed the breath from Steve’s lungs, leaving him wheezing and weak.

“Oh. Shit.”

Billy stared him down for a long, silent moment before jerking his shoulders, hands releasing his belt in favor of running through his curls, eyes sliding off to the side.

“Alright, forget it. I’ll see you around when you want some dick again.”

He started to stalk over to the Camaro, jolting Steve into motion, almost dropping Billy’s jacket off his shoulders as he stumbled after him.

“No, wait. Billy, look at me.”

He did, jaw tense and eyes hard, fishing his keys out of his jeans with short, sharp movements.

Steve risked an extended hand, something easing in his chest when Billy allowed him to rest it on his bare arm.

He took a deep breath, stroking his thumb over the golden hairs on Billy’s forearm as he gathered his courage, keeping his face open and honest.

“I meant to say yes. Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you.”

Billy’s other hand shot out to grab a fistful of his jacket, tugging Steve close enough that their breath fogged together in the autumn air, teeth bared.

“Not just a date, pretty boy. All of the dates. I don’t fucking share.”

His heart was going to burst, hammering away ecstatically in his chest, veins thrumming with warmth as Billy’s eyes fell heavily to his lips, tracing every movement, lashes fluttering when Steve wet them with the tip of his tongue.

He couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper, something like reverence stuck in his throat.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. That sounds really nice.”

Steve ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him to check around to see if anyone was watching. They hadn’t seen another soul since they got here and he didn’t give a fuck if the whole town was watching because.

Because.

Billy Hargrove kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Confession. This fic is based on a discord conversation I had with the rest of the carnival group about what a terrible awful no good idea sex on the Gravitron would be.  
> It was agreed upon to be the worst idea ever. So I had to write it.
> 
> Happy Halloween, everyone!


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